Pieces of the Heart
by Drops of Starlight
Summary: As many SoMa oneshots as I can conjure up. I'm absolutely horrid at writing summaries. R&R as hard as you can. "She could feel his whole Earth shattering, or maybe it was hers, but it no longer mattered because they were one, they were musical, and they were beautiful."
1. Stars

_Stars are like hopes,_

Maka thinks, releasing the shaft of Soul's weapon form. His scythe blade shifts and swirls in a blend of red and black, ultimately resting on the shocking white of his unruly spikes, the tan of his warm skin, and the liquid ruby of his ever-observant eyes.

* * *

_They're always there, piercing the black cloak of night with specks of light, there to guide you in times of darkness or confusion._

* * *

She lets a soft smile pass her lips, her verdant green eyes shimmering with starlight. Soul glances at her, observing and calculating her every move, anxious to assure there's no damage to her after the particularly grueling training session they had just gotten through.

She sighs and falls limply to her back, sprawled out delicately in the wide, almost infinite grassy field, surrounded by an endless black night sky framed by thousands upon thousands of shimmering silver stars. Soul immediately startles, his eyes widening a fraction, arms already poised to reach her. She lets her heavy eyes fall closed, a lopsided gin still fixed to her face. Soul relaxes, letting his arms fall to his sides, a lazy grin working its way onto his own face. Her breath steadily evens, her shoulders relaxing, alerting Soul that his Meister has fallen asleep.

He watches her lay there for a moment, hair spread out beneath her, soft (not that he would know, he thinks grudgingly) lips parted in sleep, before he realizes he's being an absolute creep and moves to get her into the truck.

* * *

_They're there to pick you up and carry you home, when you no longer can for yourself._

* * *

He gently scoops her into his arms, her parted lips allowing her soft snores to repeatedly blow the wheat-colored fringe off her forehead. He tries to walk steadily, so as not to wake his sleeping Meister. He attempts to set her down as gently as possible in the passenger seat of their rented truck, (his motorcycle could not possibly work, Maka had earlier argued) but ends up banging his head on the roof of the car, waking her with an elegant:

"Ow, shit."

Maka blinks owlishly up at him, slowly realizing he probably carried her to the rusty blue truck.

"Did you...?" She inquires lightly, surveying the area around her. He immediately averts his eyes, face heating rapidly.

"Was tryin' to do somethin' nice..." He mumbles, shuffling away to get into the driver's side. She scratches the bridge of her nose, hiding a grin.

_If darkness is the night, Soul is the stars,_ She thinks fondly, closing her eyes once more.


	2. Music

Maka had never understood music. She wanted to know what emotions must be coursing through Soul as he fiercely poured out his soul into the piano in the Black Room to save their skin. She wanted to know how he understood the tiny notes he would sometimes quickly scrawl on whatever notepad or napkin was lying around the house before he forgot the measure he had imagined. She wanted to know and feel, and touch and taste the feelings thrumming through his chest as he gently bobbed his head and closed his eyes to whatever classical or jazz he might've been listening to at the time.

She had mentioned one of these thoughts to him while they were both in the kitchen, watching the oven cook their soon-to-be dinner. He had turned to her, blinking in disbelief with his lazy (though not currently) rich, wine-colored eyes, framed by thick white fringe. He surveyed every inch of her face carefully, eyes widened by a fraction. She was his Meister, and partner, and best friend. She was his music, his one and only, his everything. Though there was no way he could ever voice these feelings without sounding uncool to an epic proportion. So he did the only thing he knew how to do when words evaded him. He acted.

Maka's eyes widened a fraction, then shut in bliss. The kiss, to Soul's smug delight, emitted a small shudder from the lithe frame of the girl folded in his embrace. And in that moment, she felt all of his music, his emotions, the blaring music of his soul, the notes of his heart. She could feel his whole Earth shattering, or maybe it was hers, but it no longer mattered because they were one, they were musical, and they were beautiful.


	3. Panties

**A/N: **Hello, reader! This chapter is a bit more lighthearted that the last two, and more humorous (hopefully). However, this chapter is why I rated Pieces of the Heart for teens as it has slight sexual references. If this offends you, read no further. If not, enjoy!

* * *

Soul opened his mouth, then closed it, his face rapidly approaching scarlet. Opened his mouth again, closed it again, looking disturbingly similar to a fish out of water. Maka looked at him expectantly, one eyebrow raised and a hand on her cocked hip. The other was busy waving a particular lacy, light pink scrap of cloth dangerously close to his face. Soul swallowed, desperately trying to ignore the twitching problem in the restraining confines of his pants.

"Maka, I_—_"

"What, Soul? What the hell could you possibly have been doing with _**my underwear in your**_ **_room_**?!" She whisper-yelled, flailing her arms about.

Hearing her say that out loud caused an unwelcome, tiny prickling sensation at the bridge of his nose. He quickly put a finger to his nose, faking an itch. He, as discreetly as possible, pulled it away and wiped the blood on his jeans. He took a step back, ready to retreat to his room and board up the door for some man-to-hand alone time. She took a step closer, clearly not about to let him get away without an explanation. His carmine gaze desperately skirted everything in the room for any sort of escape. He was desperately in love with his Meister, and getting all up in his damn personal space was **definitely **not going to make the situation better any time soon. She didn't know this, however. So the situation, naturally, was all the more unbearable for him. She raised her ash-blonde eyebrows fractionally, pink lips pressed firmly in a line. And of course, he took that moment to notice that as close as she was to him, he could see down her shirt, revealing the creamy porcelain expanse of Meister chest and _for the love of all that is holy he needed to get away from here. __**Fast**__. _He let out a rushed:

"Maka, I swear it was probably a laundry accident." and hauled ass away and into his room, slamming the door and frantically flicking the lock behind him to take care of business. Maka threw her arms up into the air and groaned in frustration, puffing out her flushed cheeks.

She stormed to her room, slowly taking her copy of _War and Peace _from it's place on her bookshelf.

Oh, the Maka Chop that would be waiting for him upon his return would not be a pleasant one.


	4. Wavelength

Maka was bravery. She was the brave face Soul needed to put on when he could no longer hold up his crumbling cool facade. She was the strength he needed to get through a particularly rough time. She was there to defeat his demons with a striking blow, whether they be almost losing her to a strong kishin or an inferiority complex with his brother, she was there. Ready to face them and be the one to protect her partner once in a while. And while she may not have a scar across her chest as evidence of her affection and respect for him, she didn't need one. It was in the pure steely determination looming behind her large olive eyes, and the resolve and willpower etched into her expression that said it all. She would be brave for him until she gave her last rattling breath.

Soul was coolness. He was the calming shoulder to cry on when Maka couldn't be brave for much longer. He was the reality to give her a gentle smack in the face when she began to tremble with fear, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. He would always keep his cool for her and was there to restore her confidence. He was the one to shove back his own familial issues and pull her into an embrace, letting her break down into his chest about her idiotic player of a father. He would always be at her side, never once cracking his demeanor when she needed it. He had and would again take a sword to the chest to protect her when she couldn't for herself. He would keep his cool for her until his last minute came to an end.

In their own ways, they were the same. Each was there to catch each other when the other one fell. Neither could imagine any way they would've survived this long without the other. They were on the same wavelength, and they always would be. They could read each other like words on a page and when it came to emotions, could see what was coming and knew exactly how to help, and they wouldn't have it any other way.


	5. Wet

They sat there in silence, the only sound being the water gently lapping at the sides of their boat. It was dark out, and the only thing allowing them to see was the pale moonlight of the full moon gently illuminating the inside of their rowboat. Soul grinned widely, causing it to glint off his sharp teeth. Maka narrowed her eyes, eyeing him suspiciously.

"What are you so smiley about? We lost the mission," She huffed, folding her arms over her chest.

"Just thinking about how yummy that soul would've tasted," He said, grinning menacingly and slurping the drool threatening to make its way down his chin. She wrinkled her nose in mild disgust at the noise.

"Anyway, I think it might be time for your arms to stop resting and start rowing us back again." Soul sighed melodramatically, causing Maka to hide a small smile by turning her face away.

"Why don't you row for awhile? Surely you could use it, what with those fat ankles," He snickered, tapping her knee. A twitching of her eyebrows, an "Ugh! Dumbass!", and a flurry of pigtails later, Soul was climbing back into the boat, shivering and soaked in freezing water.

"That was cruel," he pouted. A slow smile worked its way across his face. "I guess I could really use a hug!" to Maka's horror, he launched himself at her, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist and soaking her clothes in water. He rubbed his face and hair all over her stomach just for good measure, and sat back, grinning like the Cheshire and admiring his handiwork.

He very much deserved that Maka Chop.

* * *

**A/N:** Oh my goodness, I have no idea what that short little word vomit was. I suppose I just really like the idea of Soul acting like an idiot to piss Maka off. No matter. You _know _she secretly enjoyed it. Anyways, I decided I'm going to be birthing 20 of these little oneshot-children in total. That is all.


	6. Wait

Maka had family issues. Her father was a player and a cheater, he had cheated on her mother time and time again, saying he was sorry only to do it again. He had the gall to say he was sorry to Maka. He was brave enough to call himself her father.

Her mother abandoned her at a young age, and although Maka would never agree, was too much of a coward to apologize to her daughter. She had the gall to send only a postcard, maybe once a year if Maka was lucky. She was brave enough to pretend she did nothing wrong. Maka had heard them tell one another they loved each other every day before things got complicated. After Spirit cheated, and after Kami left, those words were dead to her. Her parents had obliterated any familiarity or happiness she might've previously associated with those words. When it came to love, she was an empty shell, a mere shadow of what she had been in the past. But then He came along, with his white hair and red eyes, his extraordinary musical talent, his _own _family issues, his snarky sense of humor and the shark-toothed grin down sent shivers down her spine. Slowly but surely, she was learning to love again, his mere existence filling her with happiness and eventually, love. She was in love with her partner, and unbeknownst to her, he had felt that way from the moment heir eyes met for the first time.

When he finally told her he was in love with her, and always would be, she grew frightened. Frightened of these foreign and scary emotions, frightened to death that the relationship they wanted to have with each other would end up a perfect replica of the one her parents had discarded like last month's garbage. She couldn't have said it back to him. As if he had read her mind, he smiled unchracteristically gently and told her that he knew she felt the same way and if she couldn't say it back now, he would wait for her until the end of time until she could. She let him pull her into his chest, letting loose a few soft cries and an abundance of tears, softly asking how she managed to find such a partner. He just grinned and replied,

"Easy. I found you."


End file.
